


smile for the camera

by bajabastard



Series: robot monster au thing [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Also kind of, Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Blood, Blood Drinking, Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Eating, Fluffy Gore, Fucked Up, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Kinda Fluffy, Light Vore, M/M, No Character Death, Reader-Insert, Risk Aware Consensual Kink, Self-Indulgent, Sparkeaters, The Author Regrets Nothing, Vampires, Vore, Weird Fluff, buckle up kiddos because this is gonna be a wild ride, consensual cannibalism, erotic gore, everything that happens in this fic is consensual, is it a kink if you have to do it to survive???, just FYI, kind of, like theyre getting eaten but only a bit of them, no one dies, or reader insert death, robot vampire, still weird as shit though, theyre fine who needs two arms anyways
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-05 19:26:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18835189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bajabastard/pseuds/bajabastard
Summary: Chromedome and Rewind decide to eat at home.





	smile for the camera

**Author's Note:**

> so rewind is basically a vampire, that parts pretty simple. he has to drink activated energon to survive. why, you might wonder, is he like this? to which i answer: hell if i know.  
> chromedome i actually thought of an explanation for. he got turned into a sparkeater but there were complications and he couldnt be fully turned back. his mind is restored, so hes himself, not a creepy robot zombie, but his body is still pretty sparkeater-ey, hes got the tentacle things and his mouth is kinda fucked up. also he doesnt have to eat actual sparks to survive, but he does need things infused with spark energy, i.e body parts. so yeah. thats about the gist of things. 
> 
> not gonna lie, this fic happened bc i wanted to write something with hard vore but without character death bc im a sap. and of course its cdrw since i am apparently physically incapable of writing anything thats not about them or my ocs. 
> 
> so uh yeah. hope you enjoy it.

You don’t mean to overhear them, it just kind of happens. You’re walking down a hall and just as you’re about to turn a corner you hear hushed voices, the kind that indicate a private conversation is being had. You don’t want to intrude but you’re not really sure what to do. You stand there for a moment, thinking, and your audials inadvertently pick up scraps of conversation.

“-just don’t know what to do.” The voice sounds almost desperate. “I should never have-” You miss a few words. “-now the both of us are starving.”

This piques your curiosity, as far as you know the ship is well stocked with energon, perhaps too well so if certain distillery projects are to be considered. There would be no reason for anyone to go hungry.

The conversation continues, this time another voice is speaking. “-keep doing what we always have, I’m sure someone would be willing.”

The first voice is back, and this time his voice is definitely saturated with frantic desperation. “How? No one here has any reason to trust us and how the frag are you supposed to ask someone “Hey, can we drink some of your blood and maybe eat one of your limbs? Don’t worry though, you’ll be fine.” We say that and not only do we scare the scrap out of that poor person but before we know it the whole ship thinks we’re out to get them, we’ll be lucky if they don’t try to kill us in our sleep.” He vents out shakily. “I’m just scared Domey and I don’t know what to do.”

Domey? Was that that one mech that looked like a fragging sparkeater? The other person’s probably his conjunx then, the cute minibot. Remix? No, Rewind! That’s it, Chromedome and Rewind. Congratulations, you think to yourself, you successfully figured out the identities of the mechs that you’re creepily listening to in the hallway.

You don’t know them personally but you know of them, and from what you’ve heard they’ve both got some weird scrap going on, but they’re good mechs.

Your processor reminds you that you’ve been trying to make friends and become less of a pathetic loser, and another part chimes in that helping people is a great way to get to know them and get them to like you.

Before you know it you find yourself around the corner, having a mutual deer-in-the-headlights moment with the two mechs you were listening to.

“Hey uh… Sorry to intrude, I didn’t mean to overhear, it was an accident I swear, but it sounds like you need some help?” You finish lamely.

They look at each other, and then back at you. The small one, Rewind, speaks. “How much did you hear?” If you hadn’t overheard the previous conversation you might describe his voice as dangerous, but now he just sounds scared.

“You don’t have the most, ah, ‘conventional’ diets and you’re worried about freaking people out. And I’d be willing to help out, I mean it’s not like you’re gonna kill me or anything.” You pause. “Wait you’re not gonna kill me right?”

Rewind’s visor widens. “No no no, definitely not. We wouldn’t need anything that Ratchet couldn’t fix.”

You barely catch Chromedome mutter something under his breath. “As long as you could survive his bedside manner anyways.”

Rewind elbows him. It’s the kind of playful, everyday, interaction you could see anymech doing, and suddenly, despite Chromedome’s intimidating mess of a frame, and Rewind seeming ever so slightly off, and sharp in ways he shouldn’t be, you’re not afraid of them. Not that you were before really but you feel more like you’re offering someone a hand, rather than walking into a lion’s den.

You shrug. “Then I don’t see why not.”

They look at each other once more, this time more than a little incredulous. Chromedome responds eloquently. “Cool.”   

 

* * *

  

A few minutes ago you received a comm with a room number and a note to come by whenever you were ready. Now you’re standing in front of what you assume is the door to their habsuite. You take a steadying vent, in, then out, and knock.

The door slides open almost immediately and Chromedome gestures for you to come in. He almost looks a bit surprised, like he wasn’t sure if you’d actually come.

They’ve clearly prepared for you, one of the berths had been practically transformed into a pillow nest and there’s a chair pushed up on either side of it. Nearby there’s a table stocked with a few cubes of energon and a first aid kit. You admit that the clear plastic cover over said pillow nest is a little disconcerting, even if you can understand why it’s there, but overall they seem to have done their best to make this comfortable for you.

Chromedome helps you up onto the berth, though that seems to be more out of habit from being around Rewind than anything else, you would have been perfectly able to get up on your own. The pillows have been carefully arranged so you’re mostly sitting upright, while still able to comfortably relax.

Or at least you could theoretically relax, in reality you’re shaking slightly just from nerves. Rewind, sitting on your left side, takes notice. He picks up one of you hands and gives it a gentle squeeze. “You’re alright, we’re not going to do anything to you that you’re not comfortable with, you’ll be fine.” You start to feel some of the tension drain out of you.

One of Chromedome’s tendril things sneaks around and lightly boops your nose. It’s so unexpected that it startles a laugh out of you.

“Okay, yeah, I’m good.” And you mean it too.

Rewind claps his hands together. “Alright! So you have two options. One is this,” He holds up a flexible tube with a sharp metal bit at one end. “Which I’ve heard tends to be somewhat unpleasant, and can cause some pretty bad bruising, or I could just bite you, which is more efficient and actually tends to heal quicker.” He retracts his faceplate and opens his mouth to reveal rows of kind of horrifying needle teeth, which, yeah are pretty scary looking, but you have no reason not to believe him. You tell him you’re okay with that, and he looks somewhat relieved.  

On your other side Chromedome pipes up. “If you just want to feed my conjunx that’s fine, I understand my thing is… “ He trails off, and makes a vague gesture indicating his whole appearance. You have to admit that it’s kind of funny seeing his lankey, horror movie looking, frame hunched over apologetically in a chair a bit too small for him.

“You haven’t really explained what it would actually entail.”

Rewind answers. “He doesn’t need to eat sparks, like an actual sparkeater would, but he needs things infused with spark energy, I.e, body parts. Usually an arm or leg since they’re easy to access and pretty simple to replace.” He pauses. “And in case you were wondering we unfortunately can’t just feed off of one another, he doesn’t have blood in the traditional sense, and my spark is…” He makes a wiggly hand gesture. “It’s complicated.”

Chromedome nods. “Just a hand or a foot would be enough though.”

Judging from the sharp look Rewind gives him you have a feeling he might not be entirely truthful. “I mean, if you wanna have the whole thing you can.” You raise your right arm slightly to indicate what you’re talking about. “It’s been achey lately and the joints aren’t working as well as they should. I was gonna get it looked at but I might as well just get it replaced.”

Chromedome’s visor gets wide. “Are you sure?”

You nod.

“...Thank you.” He pauses. “We should probably put the numbing agent in now then. It’s just a local anesthetic, it deactivates the pain receptors, but not the other nerves so you’ll still be able to feel some things. I’ve heard it kinda tickles.” he shrugs. “Everything sound alright?”

You nod again. He opens the med kit and retrieves four relatively large syringes, looks appraisingly at your arm, and then puts one back.

He presses the first one into your wrist joint, and with a measured slowness pushes the plunger down. The prick of the needle stings, but only momentarily. He repeats the process on the inside of your elbow and a seam right under your shoulder. You feel a tingling sensation start to spread across your arm, it feels like a muted version of the pins and needles you get when you accidentally cut off circulation.

Rewind speaks again. “If you’re alright with it I’d like to start while we give that a moment to kick in.” He rubs a thumb gently across a spot on your neck, then gestures to your waist. “May I?”

You nod and he hops up and straddles your hips. You hope he doesn’t notice the way your frame heats up at the feeling of him on you. You realize that you can’t remember the last time someone touched you for more than a moment without the intent to harm.

“Oh! One last question, and this is entirely optional. Would you be alright if I filmed?” He taps the camera on the side of his head.

You think for a moment, and then your mouth starts moving before your processor has a chance to react. “As long as you send me a copy of the footage.” Oh dear god you sounded almost sultry when you said that, that was not what you intended at all. Chromedome and Rewind are already conjunx, not to mention that this whole situation is… this. You pray that Rewind didn’t notice, or at least that he’ll pretend he didn’t.

What comes next is entirely unexpected, Rewind flashes a glance at Chromedome, who, if you had been looking, you may have noticed his slight nod. Rewind then cups your face in one hand and gives you a cheeky grin. “That can be arranged.”

You’re utterly dumbfounded. Thankfully you don’t have to worry about formulating a response because at that moment Rewind bends down to position his face at your neck. The briefest brush of his lips is the only warning you get before he opens his jaw and sinks his teeth into you.

You gasp involuntarily. It feels like your processor has melted and any trace of coherent thought has dripped away with it. Each of his needle teeth is a star, a burning bright spot of pain. Some part of you objects to this, to the sheer vulnerability of it and the fiery threads of pain that sing through your body. That part is very quickly drowned out by the rest of you, reveling in the exact same things.

It feels like the afterimage of explosions, like when a bassline is so loud you feel it rather than hear it, like the spark stopping moment before a freefall. It feels real in the way nothing else has.

The entirety of you exists here and now, in this moment, lying shock still as a warm frame presses down on you, your helm tilted up to offer your throat, your energon hotly bubbling up around the punctures.

His glossa presses down against you, a soft touch that perfectly accents the sharp sting of his teeth. It laps at the metal mesh of your throat as he sucks, making more energon well to the surface.

“Oh.” Your voice comes out quiet and breathy. This is so much and also not enough, you’ve never felt more real than you do now and you don’t want this to ever end.

Rewind carefully pulls out of you and holds himself up to look at you. There’s a glimmer in his visor that you can’t quite place and your blood runs in rivulets down the sides of his mouth. It suddenly strikes you that Rewind is an incredibly good looking mech.

He touches your face, running his fingers along the planes of your forehead and nose, around your optics and under your cheekbones, then finally settling his hand on your cheek.

When he speaks you have no way to describe his voice but as a purr. “You taste absolutely exquisite.”

Your vocalizer lets out a little whimper.

He strokes your right arm. “This should be about ready now. May Chromedome start?”

Your struts feel like jelly and the concept of moving feels distant, but you manage to ever so slightly nod. Thankfully Rewind sees it and looks up at Chromedome, passing your nod along to him.

You don’t know what you were expecting, but it certainly wasn’t the practiced grace of Chromedome’s movements as he holds your hand in his, giving it a comforting squeeze, before using a knife in his other hand to deftly sever it from your body.

It doesn’t hurt, but it doesn’t not hurt either, its as if you had dipped your hand into a swiftly moving stream of cold water and it had instantly gone numb.

You watch, utterly entrapped, as chromedome brings your hand up to his mouth. His glossa, long and pointed, flicks out and briefly curls around your thumb, before it disappears back into his mouth with your (former) thumb. He bites down, and with a decisive metallic crunch, it is detached from the rest of you hand.

You can hear as he chews it, you watch as his visor momentarily flares in surprise, and then goes dim. He’s savoring it, you realize, and it stirs something in you, sending an electrifying rush through your body.

He swallows. “You were right, he’s delicious.”

Rewinds visor twinkles with an unsaid ‘told you so’ as he reaches for the slowly bleeding stump of your wrist. He brings it up to his mouth, delicately lapping at it at first but quickly changes to something more reminiscent of the action of sucking marrow out of a bone. Which you, as a cybertronian, would of course know nothing about.

When he’s done he hands it back to chromedome, who in the meantime has finished off the rest of your fingers. Rewinds face is a mess, smeared with your energon and flecked with bits of viscera. He licks his lips and ineffectually wipes at it with the back of his hand. “Pardon me, it’s hard to stay neat, especially with a meal as tasty as you.” He flashes you a smile that perfectly unifies cuteness and the uncanny look of a being older than you, with knowledge beyond your comprehension.

He cocks his head.“Can I get a smile for the camera?” He flashes you a toothy grin, a mess of needle points, all stained a bright magenta.

It is only now you realize that your face had been frozen in a wide eyed gape, utterly transfixed by the scene before you. It takes a moment for you to remember how to move and you slowly curl your lips into a wobbly smile. It's not insincere, just thoroughly inadequate at expressing your inner whirlwind of emotions and sensation.

“Hey.” Your voice is raspy, but you’re surprised you can even talk at all.

He laughs with the sound of chimes. “Hey.” You can’t help but notice how he already looks better, his paint more vivid, optics brighter, than before.

More blood has welled to the surface of your neck and he ducks down, carefully sucking and lapping at the wound, meticulously recovering as much of the spilt energon as possible. His mouth is soft and warm against you, and to the frantic nerves at the edges of your dozens of small cuts it feels hotter than a smelting pool.

He brings one of his hands down on your neck, wrapping his fingers around it, and gently but firmly strokes upwards. It has the intended effect of pushing more energon out for him to drink, but it also teases a breathy whine from your vocalizer. You don’t know if you want him to stop or keep going or what you want at all, just that you _want._

In sharp contrast to the burning heat of your neck your arm feels almost frigid. It takes you a moment to realize that your forearm is no longer attached to you. You glance over at Chromedome and he’s close to halfway done with it. He’s using his teeth to methodically tear it apart, neatly ripping off and eating the wires and circuitry bit by bit. He uses one hand to peel off a strip of your outer plating, dexterously folds it into a more manageable shape, and places it in his mouth.

He notices your attention and fixes his optics on yours. He winks at you. It’s utterly ridiculous, he too is smeared with your energon, holding part of your severed arm, and he just _winked_ at you. You can;t help it, you laugh. Maybe it’s the blood loss getting to you, but you don’t care.

Rewind pops up and gives you a concerned look. You smile back at him. You imagine you must look… well… somewhat deranged, but instead Rewinds face softens.

His voice is breathy. “There are times when I’m really, really, glad I have a camera attached to my head.” He pauses. “That was one of them.”  

“Oh.” You have no idea how to respond to that, instead you just stare back up at him. He gets back to work on your neck but the afterimage of his visor lingers in your vision.

Time doesn't pass the way it should, every instant is dragged out to an eternity and yet everything still goes by far too quickly. You're aware of voices speaking in hushed tones but they don't seem to be talking to you, so you don't expend the energy to decipher them.

You're roused from your trance like state by a sharp sting from your shoulder. You shutter your optics a couple times to clear them and when you look over the rest of your arm is gone, leaving just your shoulder plating. Chromedome is using a laser scalpel to cauterize the weeping veins in the open stub of your arm. He then uses a soft, solvent soaked cloth to clean off the coagulating energon, then sprays the area with something you assume is a disinfectant from the way it stings. He takes a thin metallic film and secures it over the area, carefully sealing the edges down.

Rewind reaches by him to get another cloth and starts cleaning off the mess of dried, flaking energon and sticky oral lubricant off your neck. He applies some sort of gel substance to the wound. It goes on room temperature but then gets cold. You can feel it start to solidify into a protective coating.

Rewind cups your cheek in his hand. “Hey. are you back with us? You were lost in space for a bit there.”

You manage a small nod.

Chromedome places a comforting hand on your shoulder. “How do you feel?”

You try to respond but only manage a staticed rasp, the dryness of your throat catching any words before they have the chance to emerge.

“Here, drink this.” Rewind picks up a cube and holds it up to your lips. It's sweet and goes down easily. You realize how hungry you are and take a few more sips before responding.

“'M good. Hungry, a bit tired.” Your voice wobbles.

“That's to be expected. You think you can hold this yourself?” Rewind indicates the half empty cube.

You focus on the idea of moving. You start slowly, flexing the fingers of your remaining hand, and working your way up to moving the whole arm. You're a bit shaky but Rewind helps, steadying you, and keeping you from just spilling the rest of the cube on your face, as you nearly do.

You quickly finish that one off and Rewind hands you another one, which you're able to drink on your own. That one is empty before long too, and when you're done with it you feel almost back to normal. You stretch a bit, even lying down you feel a bit out of balance without your other arm.

“Better?” Rewind asks. You nod. “Good.” He leans back down, wrapping his arms around you as best he can, given your position. He whispers something where his face is pressed to the side of your neck and you almost don't hear it. “Thank you for trusting us.”

You wrap your arm around his back and you can feel Rewind briefly tense with surprise before relaxing into you.

Chromedome rests his hand on the top of your head and gently strokes your helm plating.

“How do you feel?” you speak up. “Both of you?”

Chromedome responds first. “I haven't felt this good in… centuries at least. Probably longer.”

Rewind hums a noise of agreement. “Same. I feel like I could take on Ultra Magnus and win.” He pauses and nuzzles his face further into the junction of your neck and shoulder. “Not going to test that though.”

Chromedome laughs lightly. “That's probably for the best. I bet you could though sweetspark.”

You feel, rather than hear, the gentle purr that runs through Rewind's frame in response to the affection from his conjunx. He turns his attention back to you. “We should probably get you down to Ratchet.”

A small whine escapes your voxbox. “Do I have to go now?” The words form themselves before you can stop them. You freeze, registering what you just said. “I mean. I can go now, I'll just be heading out-” You make an effort to push yourself up but between the deep feeling of calm relaxation that has turned your struts to jelly, and the fact that you are currently down an arm, you don't get far.

Rewind just uses the opportunity to snuggle closer. “Nah, you're right. Naptime first.” He reaches out blindly in Chromedome's direction. “Domey, get over here.”

“Yep.” Chromedome slides in next to you, curling his larger frame around the both of you. He wraps an arm and several tendril things around you and Rewind.

You're effectively sandwiched between the two of them, Rewind's warmer frame curled up on top of you and Chromedome's form is pleasantly chilly beneath you.

You feel relaxed, comfortable, and above all, safe, and before you know it you've drifted off into recharge.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! 
> 
> constructive criticism/feedback/attempted transliterations of the ever-present muttering of things best left unknown is always welcome!


End file.
